<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Found by Valaks</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306134">Found</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaks/pseuds/Valaks'>Valaks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bittersweet, Drabble, Flufftember, Found Family, Ian is a Terrible Brother, John rider lives, Post Scorpia Rising, Suspend Your Disbelief Just a Little, Yassen Gregorovich Lives, no angst i promise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:01:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaks/pseuds/Valaks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>None of it was supposed to work out this way. They were supposed to be a happy family, free from SCORPIA and MI6 but things had never been easy for the Riders and after Ian and Alex had died they had tried to move on, had kind of succeeded. Until John found out quite by accident that his dead brother had been killed. And that his dead son had worked for MI6 and then taken on SCORPIA and won even if it was at a terrible price and that his allegedly dead protege had picked up the pieces.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yassen Gregorovich &amp; Alex Rider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>AR Flufftember 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtoolazytothinkofausername/gifts">imtoolazytothinkofausername</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by a tumblr prompt from imtoolazytothinkofanamesblog. They come out with a lot of quality content there and here as well, if you haven’t checked them out, I highly recommend.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>None of it was supposed to work out this way. They were supposed to be a happy family, free from SCORPIA and MI6 but things had never been easy for the Rider family.  Albert Bridge had gone perfectly and he had handled the bomb for he and Helen’s plane himself. Alex’s ear infection had been unplanned but Ian had assured them he could get Alex to them via the ferry in a few days once everything after the bombing died down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ian had booked the trip and given them the time and as they had waited on the dock they had seen the column of smoke go up in the distance and John knew that he would never see his baby boy again. They had stayed huddled on the pier until some officers and quietly told them that all the survivors had been accounted for and that none of them matched Ian or Alex’s description. It had taken 3 hours of crying before he could convince Helen that they needed to leave and they turned their backs on England and tried to pick up the pieces of their hearts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They never moved on, persay, the tears just came less and less but Alex was never out of their thoughts. Helen kept her locket firmly around her neck, thumbing at it absently when she thought no one was looking or was thinking particularly hard about something. John kept Alex’s picture inside his fraying wallet and on his nightstand. Personal effects he normally would eschew but it’s not like Alex could be used against him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took them 4 years before they tried again and this time they were blessed with a baby girl. They protected her fiercely. She was never out of their sight. Not again. Never again. She was their world. Until John found out quite by accident that his dead brother had been killed. And that his dead son had worked for MI6 and then taken on SCORPIA and won at a terrible price and that his allegedly dead protege had picked up the pieces. John had left without even telling Helen goodbye. He had to know if it was true, needed to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took him a week and half his old contacts to find Yassen and Alex in sunny Preveza. He watched from a pair of cheap binoculars, appearing to be sight seeing because Yassen would be looking for a scope and if half of the rumors about what he had turned into were true, he would shoot first and ask questions later. And John would deserve that because he was the one that had taught him. Yassen had aged well, he carried himself with an air of competence and confidence that was well earned, still he looked surprisingly at ease as he took in the street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a slight tension, but it quickly resolved when the door he was waiting outside opened and a sun kissed blonde joined him, smiling guiltily around a spoonful of raspberry sorbet. There was another spoon, presumably for Yassen shoved into the other half. The Russian took in the sight and shook his head fondly. John couldn’t quite make out what he said but imagined it was something along the lines of “couldn’t wait” and a mischievous head shake earned an affectionate hair mussing in return. The teen protested, trying to smooth it back down and just for the briefest of seconds he looked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John felt his throat constrict as he realized just who he was looking at. Alex. He was a far cry from the squalling baby they had left in Ian’s arms 16 years ago. Instead he had hard, sharp muscles that spoke of daily training, he moved with the same quiet, lethal grace as Yassen, his eyes darted cautiously around looking for danger, under his casual shorts and shirt were the barely there but familiar lines of holsters presumably for combat knives. The ease at which he moved despite them suggested a comfort that made John uneasy because he recognized it in himself, something he had hoped that his baby boy would never know. It was then he realized that this wasn’t his Alex. This was Yassen’s Alex - a product of MI6 and SCORPIA, a force to be reckoned with, dangerous and competent in his own right. But in the Greek sun with raspberry sorbet staining his lips dark against the bright smile he was giving Yassen he looked happy and content and loved like any other child. And John knew that if he and Helen tried to step back into his life now that it would break all the careful work that Yassen had obviously done to stitch Alex back together. Quite literally if the scars John saw told even half the story.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t his Alex anymore. His Alex had died a million deaths without him and not a single one of them had been on a ferry to Dunkirk. The pain of those deaths would be on him forever, marking his steps but under the guiding hand of Cossack there was no question that Alex would live, thrive even.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>John realized too late that Yassen had caught sight of him. He didn’t seem surprised or fazed in the slightest, just tilted his head minutely, not enough for Alex to take notice but a clear sign to John - it was a question of whether he would be a threat to Alex. He settled for a reassuring nod, he would stay away, wouldn’t interfere. If Yassen wanted more from him he obviously knew he was alive and had the contacts to reach out. Yassen nodded back slowly and turned to Alex who was suddenly looking very wary. As John packed up his gear into the mesh backpack he had brought as cover he watched as Yassen pulled Alex to face him and rubbed a soothing circle on Alex’s shoulder. He was talking, no doubt trying to reassure the teen that all was well. Alex didn’t relent immediately, his instincts were good then, but eventually something Yassen said got through because the coiled danger that had gripped Alex relaxed and he sagged gratefully into Yassen’s touch, allowing the man to pull him close, melting sorbet long forgotten. John turned away to head home to his family, content in the knowledge that Alex was safe with his.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the days since Greece, John had been filled with a restless energy. He had tried to put Alex behind him, really had. Alex was with Cossack, he was safe, safer than he had likely been in 15 years. But he had so many unanswered questions about what got him to that point. Questions that had kept him up at night, not the least of which started with his brother’s betrayal. If Ian wasn’t already dead, and this time John had checked, he would have personally handled it, blood relation or not. Instead, it appeared he had yet another thing to be grateful to Yassen for. </p><p> </p><p>From there he had fallen into the rabbit hole of finding out just what had happened to his son. It had been difficult to get information without drawing attention to his survival. Thankfully, for an intelligence agent he was surprisingly high profile, which made asking questions less noticeable than they otherwise would have been. The reason behind that notoriety could partially be attributed to his age but the other part was a result of the operations he had been sent on. </p><p> </p><p>They had all been laid out in a dossier that a contact had gathered (for a significant price that Helen would <em> never </em> find out about) in painful, vivid detail. Alex had been thrown up against some very, very powerful people and had very little in the way of training that John could find and even less in terms of consent. There was no real documentation to prove that but the subtext was there. Sure, some of the missions didn’t appear to have been ordered by MI6 specifically but John had pulled strings behind the scenes in SCORPIA. Blunt or whoever was in charge of MI6 at the time was not above doing the same, which was a given if they also weren’t above exploiting a <em> 14 year old supposed orphan. </em>It painted a grim picture - biological weapons, nuclear attacks, earthquakes and plagues all stopped at the hand of a teenager forced to make impossible choices at a very high cost. The physical toll was staggering, the photo of a gun shot wound just above his heart had felt like a punch in the gut, the pictures of a litany of scars across his back torso had been sickening. John knew that the worst scars were the ones he couldn’t see. There was no way Alex had made it out of all of this without some serious mental trauma. His reaction to perceived danger in the street had likely been a mild episode. John could sympathize, his first 3 years out of the business had been trying for both him and Helen - flashbacks and nightmares coupled with the loss of their son had almost ended their marriage. All of that stemmed from 5 years of military and paramilitary experience. As an adult. He couldn’t imagine what Alex, a teen who had suffered far more with more weight on his shoulders than just his own skin and the lives of a squad at best or some likely deserving target at worst. </p><p> </p><p>Reading through the dossier the first time had been an exercise in self control filled with fitful starts and stops. He wanted revenge but that wasn’t John’s world anymore. He was a private security contractor, not an assassin and he still had Helen and Erin to think about and in the last 8 years they had settled into a comfortable life in America. Besides, Alex had Cossack. If there was revenge to be had, then he had no doubt the man would take it or let Alex take it. It wasn’t his place. </p><p> </p><p>He had tried his best to settle back into his normal life but it was difficult. Helen could tell he was rattled but he couldn’t tell her why. If she knew Alex was alive she would stop at nothing to see him and even though he wanted the same, really did, the idea of crossing Cossack to get to him was daunting. He didn’t have the skills to do it, not anymore. He didn’t know what had happened since Paris but Cossack had turned into a legend in the field. It made him a little sick when he thought of the teen he had left in Paris, confident that he had swayed him from this life. Obviously he had failed and worse, there was no way Cossack wasn’t aware of his betrayal. His only comfort was that if the man had wanted revenge he would have already taken it. Unless he planned on using Alex to that end. He couldn’t put that possibility out of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>The idea that his son was alive and yet still out of his reach was an almost physical weight on him. It made the idea of getting out of bed in the mornings after only a few hours of restless nightmare filled sleep daunting. He was almost relieved when he got the message a week and a half a later. “Onyx Cafe, 10:30AM” was all it said and that was all it needed to say. He had no doubt who it was and Cossack knew enough to know that it was a 5 minute drive from his home. Far enough away for him to not get twitchy, but close enough to signal who had the upper hand. The question was, would Alex be there? He didn’t dare hope, just focused on getting ready, hiding as many weapons on himself as he could even if he privately acknowledged they would do little good. </p><p> </p><p>Yassen had been kind enough to only give him an hour’s notice before their meeting. Less time to stew but also less time to prepare or notify anyone given he was a wanted man. It was also likely no coincidence that he had scheduled it while Erin was at school and Helen was on shift at the hospital. The idea that they had been watched enough for Yassen to plan that without John noticing reminded him of just how dull his edge had gotten in 16 years of relative comfort and anonymity. </p><p> </p><p>He arrived early like he always did, but Yassen was already there sitting under an umbrella, back to the brick wall of the building looking perfectly casual in a black t shirt with an untouched glass of iced coffee in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>““Where’s Alex?” He asked as he took the seat across from him. He wasn’t sure how else to start not with the unspoken baggage between them and Alex was the only reason either of them were here right now so it probably wouldn’t be seen as too rude. </p><p> </p><p>Cossack shrugged “Likely doing school work but his time is his own. He has earned that. ”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t think he followed you?” He glanced warily around.</p><p> </p><p>Yassen shot him an unimpressed look. “Unlikely, Alex is skilled enough to do so but he has little interest in my business meetings and he knows that if he had wanted to come, he simply would have had to ask. I have found that leaving his options open is the best way to ensure he stays out of trouble. So long as he is aware of the entire situation, he tends to make the right choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“So he knows you’re meeting with me?” He broached cautiously, he wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be - yes and Alex had refused to come or….</p><p> </p><p>“No. He knows nothing about you other than what he has gleaned through the years. To him you are still dead, I am here to make sure that remains the case until he is ready to hear the truth.” </p><p> </p><p>John had to repress a wince at that. Of course Cossack wouldn’t have told Alex. If he had, then he imagined Alex would have been at his door in a heartbeat. He doubted that even Cossack could have stopped Alex if he wanted to find them, he probably would have helped and even supplied the gun and disposal for Alex to get his revenge. In his shoes he wouldn’t necessarily blame him - abandoned for 16 years to the whims of Ian Rider and MI6 and SCORPIA. John would be bitter too. </p><p>“Shouldn’t that be his call?” </p><p> </p><p>“It will be, in time. Right now, after all that has happened...he is still healing. He needs time, I am asking you to give that to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“And threatening me if I don’t?” John pressed, he likely knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from the man himself if nothing else than for ammunition not to give into his burning desire to find Alex.</p><p> </p><p>“If you want to see it that way, then yes.” Cossack said simply, every bit the calm, professional killer he had turned him into. “I don’t treat threats to Alex’s health well. If you try to pursue a relationship with him at this time you would fall into that category. I will take the appropriate action.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you?” He demanded, more heatedly than he intended.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. You’ve been out of the field for a while, John. You’ve grown complacent. As I have shown, there is very little that I don’t already know about your new life. I mean you and your family no harm so long as you do the same for mine.” </p><p> </p><p>Mine. As in Cossack’s family. As in Alex,<em> John’s </em> son. He felt a spike of jealousy run through him.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s my son.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Was </em>your son.” Cossack returned coolly, “He has not been your anything for 16 years.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know he was alive.” He snapped at the clear accusation in the statement. </p><p> </p><p>“The John Rider I knew always checked.” Cossack returned pointedly. It had been a lesson he had drilled into his head - confirm the kill. But it was different, he saw that right?</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t exactly hunt for a body, they supposedly drowned.” </p><p> </p><p>“You had just faked your death days earlier. It is not that far fetched that MI6 would do it again.”</p><p> </p><p>“I left him with Ian.” He protested</p><p> </p><p>“You think he was immune from MI6s machinations? You knew who you were up against, who you were hiding from. You are lucky Ian was working for MI6 because SCORPIA would have twisted Alex beyond recognition if they had not killed him outright. Either way, you wouldn’t have known because you didn’t care enough to confirm </p><p> </p><p>The anger and helplessness that had been building finally snapped at the words “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t care, Cossack! You don’t know what it’s like to be a father and think your son has died! To mourn him for <em> years </em>only to find out he was used in the worst way!” </p><p> </p><p>If Yassen was bothered by his outburst, it didn’t show “You have no one but yourself to blame, John. If you are expecting to find pity or sympathy you will not find it with me. You betrayed everyone around you. Then you left him to MI6 because you were too cocky to use your contacts to confirm the kill. Every action you have ever taken tells me that you are going to hurt him....”</p><p> </p><p>“I would never…”</p><p> </p><p>“You already have.” Yassen interrupted “Through every careless action, every time you looked the other way when you should have known that something was happening, should have checked for at least the safety of your own family. But you didn’t. Your information has been on the market for a decade now, Hunter. The only reason you’re not dead is because I bought it off for you.” John’s blood froze. Surely he was lying but there was only painful, raw truth in Cossack’s eyes. “Then you went using every contact you had to track down his information and the only reason you didn’t draw more attention to yourself <em> and </em> to Alex is because I knew your contacts and paid to have the inquiries silenced. I arranged for you to see him in Greece but that wasn’t enough for you, was it? You couldn’t be content to see him happy and recovering? You had to keep pushing, keep asking, and would have only succeeded in bringing more attention down on his head if I hadn’t anticipated that too. The fact is you don’t <em> deserve </em> to see him, not with how careless and emotional and <em> selfish </em> you are. The only reason you will get the chance is because I respect Alex to make his own choices.”</p><p> </p><p>John leaned back like he had been slapped. “Cossack...” he was cut off</p><p> </p><p>“Yassen.” He corrected, “Cossack is dead and you lost the right to call me that long before then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what this is then? Some kind of revenge?” John demanded, he had suspected as much. The bitterness in that statement was enough to confirm. </p><p> </p><p>“No, This isn’t about you, <em> John </em>. This isn’t about our past or your betrayal. If I had cared about it we would have met when I first paid for your contract 10 years ago. I was content to never see you again. The only reason we are here is because of Alex”</p><p> </p><p>“If you cared about him why didn’t you tell me sooner where I could get him out of there?”</p><p> </p><p>“It was none of my business and when it became my business I had other priorities, namely Alex’s health. Had you never made inquiries it would have been quite some time before the truth came out. Time enough for me to see him stable enough to handle the news. He deserves the choice of whether to have you in his life, even if it is against my better judgment.” </p><p> </p><p>“And when will you give him the choice?”</p><p> </p><p>“When he is healed enough to handle the knowledge, likely not anytime soon. He is certainly in no frame of mind to make that decision now. When that time comes, I will explain the situation to him objectively. If he asks my opinion I will not give it. It will be his decision and his decision alone.” John could work with that. At least Cossa...Yassen was even giving him the choice. He obviously didn’t want to and had no love lost for him despite him shielding his family - both Alex and Erin.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to object but he wanted to see Alex more. “Okay. I’ll wait, whatever it takes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me be perfectly clear, if you hurt him, if you betray him, I will ensure it is the very last thing that you do. You turned your back on him in France, I will not stand for you doing it to him for a second time.” John settled with a nod “When Alex is ready I will contact you. Whatever his decision is, I will expect you to respect it.” His tone left little doubt as to what would happen if John pushed the boundary. </p><p> </p><p>Yassen moved to leave “Wait” he paused and the Russian turned, arching an eyebrow “Can you tell me about him?”</p><p> </p><p>Yassen hesitated, obviously debating something, then slowly sat back down “Alex is….very bright. He is extremely resilient and determined, and driven and stubborn beyond belief.” His tone warmed slightly with something akin to pride “I have told him often that I thought you would be proud of him. Given the file I provided on him, Would you say that I was correct?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I am. None of it should have ever happened to him, but the fact that he survived any of it….it’s amazing.” </p><p> </p><p>“He is” The assassin nodded “More than you can even imagine, far more than the picture painted by the file. Alex Rider, the agent, is a marvel, but Alex, the person, is….” he trailed off with a small smile “so much more. You will see for yourself should he choose to meet with you. It will not be a happy reunion but both of you are stubborn enough to make it work if you set your minds to it.”</p><p> </p><p>John hadn’t even thought about what Alex’s perspective would be. Being told your parents were dead for 16 years only to find out they were alive and had a kid and had, by all appearances moved on? He could imagine that wouldn’t be a happy reunion at the best of times, it would only be made that much worse by SCORPIA and MI6 being added into the mix. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s going to hate us.” John groaned as the realization hit.</p><p> </p><p>“At first.” Yassen nodded “He is not known for being gentle or holding his tongue. I will talk to him to ease the blow but...it’s Alex” he shrugged as though that should mean something “Be patient with him and he will come around. It will hurt, but he is worth it.” With that Yassen stood, leaving his coffee untouched. “You will hear from me when he is ready.”  That Yassen should not hear from him before that time went unsaid.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll look forward to it.” He nodded, standing himself then hesitated “Yassen?” John waited until the assassin had turned back to face him “Thank you...for looking after him.” </p><p> </p><p>Yassen just nodded back and then he was gone, easily fading into the stream of people on the sidewalk. </p><p> </p><p>He reflected on Yassen’s words “when” not “if” he is ready. If Yassen did not think that there was a very real possibility that Alex would want to meet them he imagined that they would not have had this conversation. It gave him a spark of hope. All he had to do was wait. John could handle that. He had waited 15 years, he could handle a few more, especially if it meant the chance of seeing his son maybe not happy, not with him at least but healthy. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to Victory, Melon, and Violetta for the inspirations for this chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>